


Fire and Ice

by Iocane



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Modern AU, Or Maybe A Tango, Phasma leads when she dances, Submissive!Poe, This is an AU, Vaugely Swing Style Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 03:14:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10068011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iocane/pseuds/Iocane
Summary: Poe has a dance with a captivating amazon of a woman.





	

**Author's Note:**

> <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N3pxAHBck8U>
> 
> This video exists. This video existing is why this story exists. I ship Poe/Finn like nobody's business, but I saw this video and then this story happened.

Poe Dameron spotted her the second she came into the bar. She was, frankly, rather hard to miss. Tall didn’t cover it. Her natural height was on the far side of six feet, he’d wager. And with the boots she had on, she stood head and shoulders above the crowd.

She was on the opposite side of the horseshoe bar and when she leaned over the place the order, he was graced with a spectacular view. He generally tried not to ogle, but he was having difficulty looking away.

She must’ve noticed, but didn’t seem to mind, if the lift of her glass and tilt of her head in his direction were any indication. He raised his own glass and smiled back before finishing it. He shifted on his stool, looking around to see if anything else struck his fancy. Finn and Rey were happily tucked into a corner, heads together, hands clasped and he couldn’t help but smile for his friends. They were both very lucky to have each other. 

Seeing nothing else, but noticing the band was setting up, Poe ordered himself a shot of liquid courage, downed it and slid off his bar stool. He exchanged smiles and back slaps with a few people he knew but his intent was the spire of a woman on the far side of the bar.

With her on the stool, and Poe’s not impressive stature, his eye line was about at her shoulder. "Excuse me,“ he said and she turned, and he was momentarily lost in her ice blue eyes.

"Well hello,” she said with a chuckle, turning to face him, and he noticed she was all leg. And he would love to find out just how strong those thighs were.

“I was wondering if you’d like to dance,” he said, gesturing at the dance floor.

“I love to, but men don’t like it when I lead,” she said with a shrug. Apparently thinking that was the end of it, she started to turn back to the bar.

He caught her hand, noticing how smooth her skin was. "I don’t mind,“ he said gamely, and he didn’t. "I like a strong partner,” he promised, stepping back to give her room to slide to the floor, letting go of her hand but offering it in a gentlemanly fashion to help her down.

She eyed him thoughtfully, glancing at his hand. Finally she nodded and finished her drink in three hearty gulps. "Alright, little man, show me what you’ve got.“ She took his hand and slid to the floor.

Poe found himself lead onto the dance floor, and as promised, took the woman’s position.

Matching the music, it began slow at first. She was strong without being domineering, and it was easy to match her steps. He kept his eyes on her face, despite the tempting vista offered by her low cowl neck collar.

"You can call me Phasma,” she said as the music began to speed up.

“Phasma,” he purred the name. “I’m Poe. Poe Dameron.”

“Good to meet you, Poe Poe Dameron.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at the joke. “Good to meet you too, Phasma,” he said just before she spun him gracefully out and drew him back into her arms, his head resting on her breasts for a moment before continuing the dance.

As the songs progressed, so did the strength of their dance. Finally, Poe was dimly aware of the dance floor being largely empty except for them.

He could only imagine how they looked, his dark curls, olive skin and dark red clothes paired with her tall, ice-pale skin and hair, and shimmery silver white dress.

At one point she dipped him and he could see Finn whooping at the edge of the crowd, and saw Rey with a camera. He blew his friends a kiss just before she lifted him again.

Their moves became faster, more passionate and he quickly learned she wasn’t just tall. It usually took a very muscular man to dance with him the way she was. She moved him around the dance floor - and her supple body - as if he weighed little more than Rey.

And he loved it. Eventually they ended, Poe being bent back, their chests together, both of them glittering with sweat, chests heaving. Thunderous applause broke their attention from each other, and they grinned as she stood him upright.

He just had enough time to brace himself from Finn’s enthused hug. "Oh man that was great! You two looked incredible!“ he said, hands on Finn’s shoulders, face alight. "Hi!” he turned to Phasma. "I’m Finn, Poe’s friend, you two were amazing! I knew he could dance but not like that!“

Phasma's laugh was - and he almost grimaced at the thought - musical. Rey gave him a brief hug as Finn was introducing himself to Poe's partner. "Phasma,” she said, getting the taller woman’s attention. "We were gonna go get something to eat, do you want to join us?“

Phasma met Poe’s eyes and he felt something crackle between them, causing his breath to stutter just slightly. "I’d love to join you. Just you three or are there others?” she asked, leading them off the dance floor, back towards the bar.

“No,” Finn assured her. "It’s just me, Rey and Poe.“

Off the dance floor, Phasma and Poe melted back into each other, arms easily resting around waists and shoulders. Poe found he liked the way her arm fit over his shoulders, and his around her waist. He was looking forward to the rest of this evening much, much more now that he wasn’t going to be a third wheel.

 

00000000

They ended up strolling down the street, towards the main thoroughfare of the town. The topic was food, and what kind to have. They finally settled on Italian, since it was Phasma's choice, and Poe could have kissed his friends for making her feel included in their evening.

When they were lead to a curved booth, Phasma slid in first, with Poe beside her. To her other side was Rey and Finn beside her. "Oh I see how it is," Poe said with a laugh when he saw Rey scooting beside Phasma. "Making sure if anyone has to get up it's one of us boys."

"Isn't that how it should be?" Phasma asked. "Women rest and men work to please us?"

The way Phasma's soft English accent curled around when words 'please us' had Poe very glad his lap was hidden by the table.

Four waters were laid down, along with four menus and drink orders were placed.

The table was quiet as they all looked over the menus. Poe felt a bump against his leg and realized Phasma was straightening hers under the table. He'd never been one for footsie but he shifted his own leg a little, just a light rub against hers.

Glancing over, he caught her eyes and smiled. "I'm thinking of getting the steak," he said. "I'm in the mood for something big and juicy." Okay, maybe he'd had a bit more than he thought, if he was coming up with lines like that.

Phasma chuckled softly. "It's good to indulge in one's appetites from time to time," she said with a sage nod.

"I've always thought so," Poe agreed. There was indeed a good 16 oz new york strip steak on the menu with a steamed garlic vegetable side and roasted potatoes.

Finn and Rey ordered a pasta sampler platter for two - five different kinds of pasta. Phasma ordered a seafood pasta dish. 

With the menu's taken away, and their drink orders having arrived, Poe shifted his attention to Phasma. "Where'd you learn to dance?" he asked.

"My parents were both dancers," she began. "My brother, sisters and I were all taught from a young age. When I became taller than my older brother, they had me learn the man's part so I could help my sisters to learn. My little sister's a ballerina now, none of the rest of us really had our parents passion for dancing."

"You seemed pretty passionate tonight," Poe observed, ignoring Rey's slight cough as something stuck in her throat.

"A good partner and the right music can still bring it out."

"I'll keep that in mind," Poe promised with a grin.

"So, Phasma," Finn caught their attention. "What do you do for a living?"

"I run a charter business, First Order Tours," she said.

"Oh! My shop rented a yacht from them last year!" Rey filled in. "Well from you, I guess," she added with a chuckle. "It was a great trip."

"Good to know what people think of us," she said, giving her glass a little lift before taking a sip.

"Do you do sailboats?" Poe asked.

"We have a few in the fleet, mostly to take people fishing who want the deepwater experience without the bother of their own boat."

"I used to go sailing with my parents," Poe said with a nod. He was easily picturing Phasma on the ropes of a sailboat. Given the way she'd handled him, he had no doubt she could handle a sailboat with equal grace.

"What happened?" The question was quietly spoken. "If you don't mind my asking."

"I don't," Poe said with a smile. Other times, he might. But there was a feeling of … comfort about this night. His two best friends were across the table from him, and an enchanting and engaging woman beside him. "My mother died in a boating accident when I was twelve, dad sold the boat and hasn't been near the water since," he explained.

"I'm sorry, it can't have been easy, losing your mother at that age," Phasma said.

Poe gave a little shrug. "It wasn't easy but dad .. really stepped up," he said with a fond smile. "Aside from never going near the water, he didn't let it destroy him."

"He seems to have done a good job with you and … ?" There was a question in her raised eyebrow.

"Just me," he provided with a smile. "And I like to think he did," Poe nodded.

"You know he did, buddy," Finn said with a laugh. "He underplays it. His dad is pretty awesome. Once Poe left home, he began taking in local foster kids. I was one of 'em."

"Yeah," Poe said with a laugh. "He neglected to tell me, so I pop home one weekend when college got to be just a bit much, and there's this knucklehead on the couch, playing my x-box!" 

"Thankfully Kes was in the kitchen and got things sorted out pretty quickly," Finn finished the story.

"And how did you two meet?" Phasma asked, facing Finn and Rey, which shifted her that little bit closer to Poe.

"It was actually his fault," Rey pointed to Poe. "He had this little boxer, brindle colored…"

And the three of them, in tandem, told the story involving a lost dog, a borrowed jacket and a minor case of mistaken identity.

Phamsa laughed, clearly enjoying the company, and the easy storytelling between the three of them.

"Why BB-8?" Phasma finally asked.

"I was seven when we got him," Poe began. "Mom took me to the shelter, and I was reading the little cards and looking at all the dogs. This one boxer was all kinds of happy, just a little ball of fluff. The card had all sorts of thing listed, including dog breed and coloring, and the cage number. Except they used initials instead of typing it out. So I fall in love with this little fluffball and tell mom 'Hey this one's named BB-8!' and it just stuck, even after she explained that it stood for Boxer/Brindle in cage 8."

As the story wrapped up, their food arrived and they all tucked in, hungry after the dancing and the wait. 

"Where did *you* learn to dance, little man?" Phasma asked after a while.

Poe couldn't help but smile at the little nickname. "You mean why do I follow sometimes instead of lead?"

"Something like that." 

"I've always been interested in strong partners. On the dance floor and off, and you've never really danced with someone until you trust them to lead."

"Trust is very important in any kind of intimate engagement," Phasma observed.

"And dancing is very intimate," he agreed, eyes lingering on her face.

"Oh god, will you two just get a room?" Finn said but there was laughter in his voice and Rey giggled quietly beside him.

Poe's olive face darkened with embarrassment, but he stole a glance at Phasma, who looked thoughtful rather than embarrassed. "It's not the worst idea I've heard all night," she finally said. "Certainly not the outcome I expected this evening, but as we agreed earlier, it's good to satisfy one's appetites," she said with a smile at Poe.

"A toast," Poe said, lifting his glass, almost tingling with relief. "To absolutely *fantastic* ideas," he said and Phasma laughed, joined by Rey and Finn. 

The conversation progressed easily from there, from childhood - and current - pets.

For Finn, he had a cat, "Apparently the shelter was mistaken when they said she was fixed," he told them, shaking his head.

"Oh, she's gonna have kittens?!" Rey gave a bounce of excitement.

"In about two weeks," he nodded.

"Mozel tov!" Phasma offered up a toast and they all echoed the sentiment.

Rey herself had no pets, but would be acquiring a cat in about two months. Allowing six weeks to wean it. Assuming she hadn't just admitted she practically lived with Finn by then.

"I have a pair of terriers," Phamsa said. "A Staffordshire Bull Terrier named Hux, and a Boston Terrier named Kylo."

"No pets at present," Poe said, shaking his head. "After BB-8 went to the great dog house in the sky, no other dog felt right. I tried a cat but he got hit by a car so just …" He shook his head. "No pets for me right now."

Conversation lulled for a moment or two, everyone content to eat. Then Rey spoke. "Oh, Poe, your bike's ready, come on by the shop any time," she said.

"Awesome, thanks! Rey is one of the best mechanics in the area. Used to work for Jakku Salvage, now she works at Solo's."

"I'm not the best-" he protest was cut off by both the men.

"Yes you are," they said in unison.

"What kind of bike?" Phasma asked.

Poe gave her the specs with a grin. "I like to go off-roading a lot," he chuckled. "So I'm always dinging some part of it because I took a jump too hard or something."

"Have you tried the D'qar trail?" Phasma asked, referring to one of the more dangerous trails in the area.

"I ran it about a year ago," Poe nodded. "But between a broken arm and a dinged up bike, I haven't managed to get back there.

"I was thinking of trying it this weekend."

"Well, now that I've got my bike back," he said with a toast to Rey, "Maybe I can join you?"

"I'd like that."

"So Finn, what do you do for a living?" Phasma asked.

"As little as possible," he answered before shaking his head. "Seriously, though, I'm a sanitation engineer."

Phasma nodded, not poking fun and that won her a lot of points in Poe's estimate. "You're not a man to cross - you know where to hide the bodies," she pointed out and the table laughed.

After dinner was cleared away, they decided to order coffee and dessert. After the waitress left, conversation resumed.

"And what do you do, little man?" Phasma asked, eyes fixed on Poe in a way that made his knees weak and made him glad he was sitting.

"I'm a pilot. Mostly skydiving, with some skywriting and trick flying on the weekends."

"I can see you as a pilot," she nodded. "Very sure hands." Her eyes drifted down to his where they rested easily on the table.

"He plays the guitar," Rey offered with a sweet smile.

"Piano, too," Finn added.

Poe wasn't sure if he wanted to kiss his friends or kick them. "You guys can stop trying to sell me to her like a slab of meat," he said, shaking his head, catching the smile on Phasma's face.

"We just want her informed as to your talents," Rey said innocently. 

"While I very much appreciate you trying to cast him in a positive light, I find it best to explore someone's talents on my own," she said, giving Poe a heated look that went straight to his crotch.

The rest of the evening was a blur, sweet dessert, perfectly bitter coffee, and an arm around his shoulder as they left the bistro. The chill evening air woke him and his arm slid around her waist.

"We're gonna get a cab, you guys want in?" Finn asked as Rey stepped halfway into traffic to flag one down.

"My place is just down the block," Phasma said, shaking her head. Poe wasn't sure how all four of them would have fit anyway, maybe Phasma in the front seat?

"Sounds like a nice walk," Poe smiled. Waving goodbye to Finn and Rey, they headed down the street, easily letting himself be led by Phasma.

"Phasma," he said the name thoughtfully. "Interesting name. I like it."

"I picked it. I had a bad childhood, apart from my immediate family. When I left home, I became my own person, so I chose my own name," she said and he felt a little surge of pride for her. No wonder she was so strong. He fell for her even more.

"What's the rest of it?"

"That's for me to know, and you to find out, little man," she said and he took the hint. "What about Poe? Like Edgar Allen?" she asked.

"No," he said, making a bit of a face. "It's actually short for Poet. Full name: Poet Laureate Dameron. My father blames the epidural, my mother claims she wanted to name me after an ancestor but none of them had names she really liked. I think Dad was secretly hoping for a Kes Junior. She'd been reading though the families histories and about five generations back, there's actually some overlap. That common ancestor was a locally famous poet, so …" he gave a little shrug, his name had always made him a little self conscious. 

"Mmm, Poet. I like it. I can easily imagine you with a silver tongue. You're a very charming little man."

Poe chuckled "Well I do try, ma'am," he said smoothly. "Though right now there's only one person I'm worried about charming," he said with a squeeze to her waist.

"What is it that movie says? You had me at hello? Hardly anyone asks me to dance, and they never let me lead."

"I'll let you lead me anywhere," he murmured.

"That's very good to know," she whispered close to his ear as she turned him towards a door at the top of a few steps.

In short order, she had them through the door, down the hall and through another door into a comfortable living room. There was a kitchen to the right, and two doors on the wall opposite it, one opened to a darkened bathroom, the other only had a sliver open, showing a white-sheeted bed, unmade.

"Drink?" she asked, unzipping her boots and he was treated to another view down her dress as she bent to pull them off. And the groan of relief was damn near sexual.

"Something non alcoholic," he said with a smile, shrugging his jacket off, hanging it on the empty hook beside hers.

"I like a pot of tea at night."

"Sounds good." He slid his hands into his pockets and moved further into the livingroom, then leaned against the counter that divided the kitchen from the rest of the place. He settled into the tall bar stool and just watched her, chin propped in a hand, making no effort to disguise his open admiration now that his friends weren't here to tease him about it. "Have you tried the Finalizer course?" he asked.

"I actually helped design that one," she said, flipping the kettle on and getting down two mugs.

"Oh! Nice. Did you have anything to do with the final quarter?"

"That was the part I mostly worked on."

"Oh! Man that's one of my favorite sections of any run ever," he enthused, unable to keep from grinning.

They continued to talk about trails and riding and bikes in general as the tea steeped and they made their drinks before settling onto the couch. She put on some soft background music.

After he finished his tea - he liked it to melt his fillings - he reached down and took hold of her feet, starting to rub one. They were soon arranged on opposite ends of the couch, facing each other. His legs stretched, hers in his lap as he rubbed them while they talked.

When she set her empty cup on the coffee table, the gentle click of ceramic on glass seemed to signal a shift. The light's hadn't dimmed, there was no change in the music, but the mood was suddenly decidedly heavier. She tucked one foot between him and the couch and he cupped the calf of her other leg as he leaned, half crawling forward.

Strong hands curled around his shoulders, then over his back as their lips met. It wasn't slow or sweet, teeth clacked, lips were caught between them and tongues explored deeply. Her legs were strong around his hips and he rocked forward.

It only ended when Poe needed to breathe. His mouth wasn't content, however, and he was soon nipping his way down her throat, savoring the way she arched under him. Her cowl neck was loose enough, he nuzzled and tugged, exposing one small breast and sucked on it, tongue flicking over the tight nipple.

"You do have a silver tongue," she said, her voice husky now.

He smiled, nuzzling his way to her other breast "I certainly try," he murmured as he lavished the same attention on her other breast.

"I know somewhere else you can practice," she purred but there was a note of command in her voice.

"Yes, ma'am," he whispered, moving quickly down her body, his pulse racing. This is what he'd been hoping for all evening. As she pushed her dress up around her thighs, he felt a strong hand at the back of his head, sliding through his curls. He found little laces at the sides of her panties and tugged them, soon pulling away the scrap of fabric that kept him from her cunt.

A twisting tug in his hair and he went forward, his mouth open and eager on her damp folds. He loved this, all the layers of taste on a woman. He didn't want mango flavored or peach or any other fucking thing but *woman* and she had it in spades.

He could taste the sweat from when they'd danced earlier, the tang of long simmering arousal, and all the other scents and tastes that clung to a woman from the minute she stepped out of the shower. His arms slid around her thighs, drawing them tight around im and she obliged, he could feel her muscles tensing against his ears as she clenched. 

Her hand stayed in his hair, her grip strong and demanding as she rocked up against him. He suddenly envisioned himself in a gag, the sort with a dildo on the outside and her riding his face. The thought made him let out a keening whimper.

"What was that about, little man?" she asked breathlessly.

Poe didn't answer, just pressed his mouth against hers, his tongue working into her tight channel. A twist and yank to his hair startled and thrilled him.

"I asked you a question little man," Phasma growled softly.

It took Poe a second to recover himself, licking his lips that were glistening with her juices. "I … a gag," he panted, eyes locked with hers, something inside him driven to satisfy her every need. "With a dildo on the outside … and you r-riding my face,"

"And what makes you think you deserve that?"

Poe went utterly weak. "I don't," he whispered. "I don't deserve it but I want to, please. Please I want to satisfy you, please," he begged shamelessly, nuzzling her thigh needily.

"Little man, you're the only one who's ever given me the proper answer," she said, then pulled, grinding his face back into her cunt. She pushed a little too hard - or just hard enough - and he couldn't move his head enough to breathe. 

He should be pulling back, should be struggling, instead he just worked his tongue furiously against her, teeth sliding against tender skin. He was so lost to his task he didn't realize when he'd resumed breathing. He was aware of her clenching, though. The spasmodic convulsions of an orgasm. A glance up showed her body arched up, head thrown back. One hand gripped the arm of the couch behind her, the other was still in his hair.

"Did I say you could stop, little man?"

"No, Mistress," Poe breathed and shoved his face back against her, licking up the fresh juices her pleasure had offered him. He could swear he saw and felt a slight shiver when he'd called her mistress.

He lost count of the number of times she shook under him. His tongue went first, numb from working so hard for his mistress' pleasure. Then his jaw. The rest of his body was still tight as a bow, not having been ordered or allowed to come, he was simply rock hard in his slacks. Painfully hard.

She had pulled her dress off at some point and lay naked, sprawled on her couch. Her fingers pulled him up off her cunt. "You'll clean your own mess?" she asked as she began to draw him up her body. 

"Yes, MIstress," he murmured, but the words were slurred due to his numb mouth.

"Good boy," she said, then arranged him to straddle her hips. Without permission, he didn't help, simply sat, hands resting on his thighs as she undid his pants and freed his shaft. He hissed at her fingers against him, hips rocking instinctively.

His stature belied his size and her large hand slid up and down his length. It took half a dozen brisk strokes and her sharp command before he came with a cry and she milked him, some of it spilling onto her hand.

She held it up to his mouth and he began to lick. His hands curled around her wrists and fingers, making sure he lapped up every drop. Her fingers slid into his hair as he began to slide down her again. Still mostly numb, his tongue worked in kittenish licks to clean his come off of her perfectly creamy skin. He smiled, he could easily see her in control of a sailboat, all salt air and glistening sweat on taut muscles.

When she was clean, he rested his head on her breast and just breathed, her arm sliding around his shoulder.

"What are you thinking, little man?" She asked, her voice slow and thick with satisfaction.

"Going sailing with you," he said easily, too wrung out and satisfied himself to speak anything but the truth.

"Mmmm. Maybe we'll take a trip some time. I take you sailing, you take me flying."

"Mmm, I'd like that. Both of them," he said.

"Time for bed, little man," she said, rousing him from his near doze. He didn't have time to fully grasp what was happening before he was on his feet and she was taking him back to her bedroom.

He didn't see much, didn't make note of anything except how warm she felt curled against his back and how strong her arms were around him.

**Author's Note:**

> I got the crack about garbage men knowing where to hide the bodies from my uncle, who is one.


End file.
